Dullahan Boyfriends: Ichabod & Iscariot 2 (special preview)

Once the carnival started back in March, there still had not been a queen selected for Ichabod and Iscariot’s parade. I had been helping where I could, and organizing my band to play, but they were struggling still to pick just the right one.

Because I had been working with them regularly, I had started becoming close to them. It was not something I was used to doing, and I often grew anxious I was doing it wrong. I wanted to be their friend, but a fear inside me held me back from wanting more than that, even though I did. I wanted them, and when that thought came up, it made me spiral into guilt. It didn’t seem fair, it didn’t seem right to want more than what I already had before. It was enough to be friends, I could be happy with only that.

Working together, we had found a way to combine my graveyard with their tours. During the start of the tours, I would be sitting in the front seat of the wagon. I would be mostly covered and start playing the violin as Ichabod or Iscariot talked. Once we reached the graveyard I would start playing more fervently, which would make the skeletons come out of their graves and advance towards the wagon. Once people were panicked enough, I would reveal myself and my skeletons would take Ichabod or Iscariot’s head. Being Dullahans, they could live without them. It would then evolve into a routine of dancing and music as their head was kept away from them, until the last moment I tossed their head back and they would run away wild with the wagon. All in good fun to scare our guests.

During a practice run just before opening day, I was sitting in Ichabod’s wagon, practicing. Ichabod was getting hitched up by Iscariot, who would then join the wagon ride to watch. 

“You have a look,” Iscariot then says.

“What look?” Ichabod scoffs. 

“This one. You’re nervous.”

I tilt my head up to listen to them as Ichabod scoffs.

Ichabod stomps his hooves. “This is nothing new. Nothing so out of the ordinary. I think you’re wanting to see things that aren’t there.”

Iscariot sighs. “She is new.”

“Who? Me?” I set my violin down. “I’m just playing my violin like always.”

“I am not-” Ichabod huffs in frustration. “Okay, maybe so. But wait until it’s your turn. You’ll be nervous too knowing she’s there.”

I’m curious as to why suddenly Ichabod, a man with so much charisma and confidence, is suddenly anxious about performing around me. He’s done it many times before, heck, I thought he’d been dying to. “Seriously, why are you nervous? You’ve done your tours in front of me all the time.”

“But never with! It’s the ‘with you’ that’s getting to me,” he grumbles. “I don’t want to mess you up.”

“Mess me up?” I find myself chuckling. “You shouldn’t be worried about me.”

“For a long time it’s just been the two of us,” Iscariot replies. “We’re used to one another, we know what to do. But working with someone else, especially someone we admire greatly, it can rattle anyone’s nerves.”

They have a way of stunning me into silence, but in a way that is sweet. They say the kindest words, and I never know how to properly thank them for them.

“That is why we are practicing, isn’t it?” I ask. “So we’ll know all these things and see how they work?” I fidget with my violin. “I am not someone who is worth getting anxious over.”

“I even get nervous working with Iscariot,” Ichabod answers softly. “I want to impress the people I love. You know?”

“Ichabod,” Iscariot says sternly.

“What? I just- oh.” Ichabod gasps when he realizes what he has said.

I’m not sure how to take it, the word doesn’t even feel real. It hangs there like in the air, slowly sucking the light from all around us. I clutch my violin close to my body as if it will protect me, deflecting whatever comes my way. I chuckle out of nerves and I can feel that my smile is an awkward one.

“Don’t tease like that,” I whimper. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke,” Iscariot’s low voice sounds even more intense. “Nor is it something to be blurted out.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Ichabod sounds weak and deflated. “But we both feel that way.”

The ash and dust cling to the back of my throat, making it feel heavy and tight. I keep my mouth closed, all the while my mind spins. It isn’t right I should be loved by them, not when it’s my fault that Benvolio and Nora aren’t here.

“Nessa, can we talk?” Iscariot asks.

I take a weak breath and snivel. “What about the practice?”

“It can wait.” Iscariot takes my hand into his. “I can tell you need a moment anyways. Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

The new haunted museum in the mausoleum is empty for the time being. The ghosts and living armor that live here are idle and enjoying the peace as Iscariot and Ichabod bring me inside. They find me a seat, I keep hold of my violin, feeling like it could protect me. 

“You don’t have to say anything.” Ichabod speaks. “I blurted it out, I’m sorry. It’s something that has been building, but something we should have brought up sooner.”

Iscariot sighs. “We didn’t want to frighten you.”

“It’s not you who frightens me,” I whimper. “It’s myself.”

“What’s there to be scared of?” Ichabod kneels down beside me. “If you feel like sharing, that is.”

“You know fire like I do,” I whisper. “You know how it hurts and what it can take away. But it’s my fault-” I start to tremble. “The fire I know is my fault.”